


Starting From Zero Got Nothing to Lose

by rhymeswithmonth



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Harry is Steve, Jay is Frank, Lottie is Lip, Louis is Fiona, M/M, Shameless AU, Zayn and Liam are Vee and Kev, also a little bit Monica, except not an asshole, raising his many younger siblings, she's both the alcoholic and the bipolar parent, the pornstar neighbours, the smart snarky second eldest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-05
Updated: 2015-04-05
Packaged: 2018-03-21 08:12:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3684798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rhymeswithmonth/pseuds/rhymeswithmonth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis is just doing his best to raise his six young siblings on his own. It's hard enough just to keep food in the fridge and the utilities paid, not to add the complication of Harry. Harry who wants nothing more than to help.</p><p> </p><p>The thing is, Louis wants to. He wants to lower his defenses, the graffitied, crumbling, barbed-wire topped walls that he's built between him and this amazing man. He wants to let Harry flood in and engulf him with warmth and security, to let himself be carried away from this cold black-hole of terror that is his life. But letting go is the scariest thing that he can think of. So scary that he's not sure if what's on the other side is worth it. </p><p>"You're asking me to jump. And I'm not sure if you'll be able to catch me. I'm really very heavy with all that baggage."</p><p>Harry chokes out a laugh, a little manic. "But you've got it wrong. I'm not here to catch you, I'm here to jump with you. We'll hold hands and everything, it'll be fun."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Starting From Zero Got Nothing to Lose

**Author's Note:**

> Title is from Tracy Chapman's hauntingly beautiful song Fast Car
> 
> So this is an AU based on the TV show Shameless. I picture them living in the Gorton area of Manchester, which is where the UK version of the show was filmed. But I've only seen the US version so I'm going based on that. Louis as Fiona is just too perfect not to write. 
> 
> I know nothing about the Tomlinson family and their counterparts in this are completely fabricated.

 

Harry makes the kids breakfast every morning. It's the one thing Louis lets him do.

It's a grand production. At six o'clock the alarm on Harry's phone goes off. He silences it immediately and smooths his lips across Louis' hairline until he falls back to sleep, then slips out from under the covers to tiptoe down the stairs. For the next hour the kitchen is his, he listens to the breakfast show on the lowest volume and fills the house with warm aromas.

By the time Louis drags himself out of bed at seven and makes the rounds rapping on doors and dragging reluctant bodies out of slumber, Harry will have magicked a feast into existence. Some days it's pancakes piled with fresh bananas and strawberries, some days it's cinnamon eggy-bread with a dusting of icing sugar, or it'll be sausages and hash-browns, or eggs Benny with sliced avocado. No matter what it is, it'll be a far cry from what Louis would have served, off-brand cereal or plain toast depending on if they'd splurged for bread.

On Harry's mornings, the kids file down in a bleary, bed-headed line to take their places around the loaded table. Harry will be in his element, donning a ruffled cream apron that had belonged to Louis' late grandmother, he dances around the room with a pitcher of freshly squeezed orange juice in one hand, and a spatula in the other dealing out second servings whenever a plate looks too empty. The apron pockets are stuffed with napkins, which he whips out to scrub off grubby faces and sticky hands.

These days most mornings are Harry mornings. He's become such a fixture in their life, so quickly that Louis doesn't even know how it happened. He's just slipped into the rushing current that is the chaos of the Tomlinson house like he's always been there. He's in the kitchen, doing the dishes while wiggling around to the radio, he's in the living room watching cartoons with the twins, he's in the front hall making sure Fizzy is wearing a warm enough jacket, he's in the bathroom teaching Lottie how to French braid, he's in the nursery singing the babies to sleep in his lovely raspy baritone.

And he's in Louis bedroom. He's always in Louis' bedroom. He's folding laundry in the ray of sun that streams through the small window, he's watering the houseplants that he'd insisted they put on every free surface to 'bring some life' into the room. He's there when Louis gets home from the bar at three in the morning after nine hours on his feet. Some nights he'll be dozing with the light on and a book still open on his chest so Louis can fall into already warm sheets and cuddle up behind him. But some nights he manages to stay awake, and is waiting stretched out and naked.

He's there after bad shifts full of rude customers who don't tip, and lets Louis pin him down and fuck his frustration into the mattress. He's there after exhausting shifts that leave Louis with splitting headaches and on the verge of tears, to wrap him up and kiss him slow and long, ducking under the covers to eat him out until he lets go and the tears flow into the pillow-case, and he shudders and collapses into a dreamless sleep. He's there after a good shift, when Louis gets drunk with Niall, stumbling home loud and horny, and Harry covers his mouth to stifle his giggles while he gropes every inch of skin he can get his hands on, until Harry relents and works him with his free hand, other palm doing it's best to keep him from waking the house.

So nearly every morning these days is a Harry morning. Weekdays he's there to help get the kids to school in time, a Herculean feat that Louis has been failing alone for years. Weekends provide a small reprieve, when they’re allowed to sleep in and wake slowly, rising together to shuffle through the quiet house with their fingers tangled, and Harry ropes Louis into helping with the food. They generally get an hour or so before the first child appears, an hour full of toothpaste kisses and playful pinches when Louis inevitably spills something, burns something, or eats something he's not supposed to.

But. Some mornings he's not. Some mornings aren't Harry mornings.

It happens after one night, after Louis shows up for work and Bobby flags him down before he can punch in. In the tiny office at the rear of the bar, Bobby breaks the news. The bar is hurting, apparently, hurting badly. Something about taxes, something about a new water-heater, something about Bobby's older son gambling. Louis can't focus on the details, but regardless, they all lead to him being sacked.

Bobby is a good man, he's known Louis for years, since Niall dragged him in after finding Louis a sobbing mess behind their high-school the day he dropped out. Jay had finally gone and left them for real and now Louis needed to work full time and take care of the girls on his own, so one term shy of graduation Louis had pulled out. The blond boy was a year younger, and both of them too young to serve alcohol, but Niall had been running orders in his pa's bar since he was old enough to balance a tray. Bobby had hired Louis on the spot.

It's been five years since then, and the Horans are all but family. But bonds like that don't pay bills and Bobby is stuck between a rock and a hard place. It blows. Louis wants to scream, wants to yell and stomp around and hit something; He's got six little ones depending on this income. But the thing is, he's not the only one. Everyone on staff needs their jobs just as badly as him. Caroline is a single mother paying legal fees to get her scumbag boyfriend's parental rights revoked, Jesy is sending money to her large family every month, Perrie's older brother is in rehab, Jade pays the bills for her dementia-ravaged grandmother to get the care she needs, Leigh-Anne is saving money to get her sister out of the abusive relationship she's stuck in.

And as good an employee as Louis is, customers don't come in to be served by a snarky gay man. The bar's regular crowd put up with him, some even seem to enjoy him, but they really come for the girls. Louis will never bring in as many tips as Leigh-Anne in her low-cut tops and painted red smile. He can't bat his eyes and coax patrons into staying for one more round like Jade, or strut the floor in five-inch heels like Perrie. He's rough and scruffy and short-tempered, the lowest earner to the lot. It only makes economic sense to cut him.

Bobby hugs him for a long time before sending him home. Because his unemployment is effective immediately. Which...isn't legal in the slightest but that's not new. Louis started working before he was legal, their ID checking policies aren't exactly tight, and half the staff gets paid under the table. Louis would never report it, despite the fact that he's supposed to get two more weeks of pay. Niall is waiting for him outside, pale and miserable looking. He gets a hug from him too, tight enough that Louis can blame the pain in his chest on the scrawny arms wrapped around his ribs.

Louis elects to walk home instead of taking the tube like usual. It takes him maybe forty minutes, in which he burns his way through half a pack of cigarettes. Normally he only allows himself to smoke once in a while, since it's too expensive to get addicted. But tonight he ambles along the icy sidewalk and lets the tar scald his insides.

His mind is on overdrive when he round the bend onto their street. Going over the bills that are coming his way, thinking through ways that they'll have to cut back over the next few weeks while he hunts for a new job. And it's only a month until Christmas, he'll have to return a few of the gifts that he's already bought the girls in order to find smaller, cheaper ones. He won't be able to get the leak in the upstairs bathroom fixed, or buy Fizzy the new pair of winter boots she needs so badly.

It's just after seven when he opens the door and steps into the house. It's only been an hour and a half since he left, and in that time dinner has been consumed and now the sound of washing up echoes from the kitchen. Louis sheds his jacket and shoes, and immediately reaches for the thermostat. It's on high, the house nice and toasty. He wrenches the dial down.

He's almost never home for this time of the day. When he trudges into the kitchen he's met with seven faces gaping up in delighted surprise. The twins jump up to greet him, laughing and grabbing him around the waist. Doris and Ernie are still strapped in their chairs, but they can feel the excitement and squeal along. The older three are less outwardly pleased to see him, though Fizzy just looks mildly confused. Lottie and Harry look at him with loaded expressions. They get it, and it makes Louis' skin prickle.

Suddenly it's too much. The plates piled in the sink with food still left on them, that Harry'd been about to rinse down the disposal are too much. The fact that all of the lights on the bottom floor are on, wasting precious electricity is too much. The Christmas decorations that he'd helped the kids with last week are too much, the homemade cookies on a plate by the microwave are too much, the worried crease between Harry's eyes is too much.

Louis tells him to leave. Now that he's unemployed, he doesn't need Harry to watch the kids for him, he rationalizes. Harry can have a break from babysitting, can go home to his own flat that sits empty on the posh side of town. Harry can go.

The kids protest, the twins loudest of all. Harry was going to make them hot chocolate, apparently. Louis stands firm and escorts him to the door, not looking the other man in the eye. Harry himself doesn't put up a fight, at least not verbally. But there's no doubt in Louis' mind that if he looked at his face Harry would implore him with his eyes not to make him leave. Louis shuts the door before his resolve crumbles.

On his way back to the kitchen, Louis turns off most of the lights. They've been letting the electric bill get too high anyway, they really should cut back regardless. The twins pout at him over the hot chocolate that he makes in place of Harry's. Harry would have melted down real chocolate, added his secret pinch of spices, would have foamed the milk and drawn pictures with syrup. All Louis can do is boil water and pour it over instant powder.

The cheery spirit that had filled the house when he got home has drained away by the time he's shooing everyone upstairs. While he puts down the babies, Lottie and Fizzy shut themselves in their shared room, the light under their door and hushed whispers indicating that they're far from sleep. Phoebe and Daisy put up more of a fight than they have in ages, whining about being cold and seeing spiders. Louis reads them a story, and receives several complaints that he doesn't do the voices right. They glare at him balefully when he turns off the light and orders them to sleep.

Harry isn't in his bedroom, obviously, since Louis drove him away. But now he's gripped with a violent loneliness that, coupled with the simmering panic, threatens to overwhelm him. Louis lets himself have a small, furious cry into his pillow. His body is used to staying up working past midnight, so he tosses and turns restless into the morning.

Harry comes back of course, and Louis lets him in. He lets Louis cry and yell for a while, then pulls him close and kisses his forehead. Louis doesn't apologize, but that night when Harry is back in his bed where he belongs, Louis rides him slow and sweet. He strokes the curls around his ears and breathes into his mouth while they move in harmony. And the way Harry rubs his hand from the base of Louis' spine to the back of his neck is acceptance of the most basic sort. Louis clenches his whole body around where they’re joined, like if he tries hard enough he could suck him in and keep him forever.

**  
  
  
  
  
  
**

They met in a club.

It was one of those nights. Louis showed up on Zayn's front steps already tipsy and ready to forget the world. Jay had been back in town, showed up at the house earlier that day, relatively sober (for now) and determined to play mommy. The girls were young and sweet enough to believe her, latching onto her with adoring eyes and open-mouthed smiles. Louis had to get out and away, and Zayn didn't question it, just fluffed up his hair and grabbed his leather jacket.

CRUZ is their usual haunt. It's cheap but not too cheap, still has some standards, and their drinks are strong. They downed two shots each straight away before venturing onto the crowded floor to dance.

Zayn was the perfect company. Since he had Liam at home waiting in domestic bliss, he wasn't about to get distracted by the slicked, half-naked bodies around them instead fully dedicating himself to making sure Louis had a good time. They'd lost themselves dancing, just enjoyed the thrum of the music and alcohol and each others' company. And the fact that they were wrapped up in each other meant that people left them alone. Mostly.

The guy who grabbed Louis was big, in a soft way rather than muscular. He was older, with steel grey chest hair crawling out from the collar of his shirt. He was sloppy drunk and rough when he pawed at Louis' arse, and laughed when he tried to slap his hand away. The crowd surged at the exact worst time, dislodging Louis from Zayn and sending him stumbling toward the randy stranger. The man jeered when their bodies clashed, fingers grasping painfully at Louis' hips, deaf to his protests. He got a vice hold on Louis' ribs, crudely grinding an obvious erection into his arse.

Louis definitely could have handled it himself. He was just a bit slow, foggy from the tequila and disoriented from the lights. He was just mustering the energy to lash out when a gangly, mop-top blur of limbs beat him to it. The kid looked young, to the point that Louis had real doubts about whether or not he was legally allowed to be there. He swung his fist wildly into the drunk brute's face, obviously not a seasoned brawler because his form was off, too flailing, sort of a half slap half punch.

The drunk was sent stumbling back, and the momentum carried the kid careening forward with him. Louis - in an unlikely show of inebriated reflexes - managed to grab onto his bicep before he face-planted into the man's burly chest. It was clear that the pervert was more stunned than hurt, and Louis didn't want to risk the chance of him recovering  enough to strike back. He barely waited for the kid to regain his footing before dragging him away, retreating into the crowd.

Louis had reckoned that punching a bloke in the face deserved some reward, so after locating Zayn and nodding a reassurance, he had treated the kid to a dance. One dance turned into two, dancing turned into heated grinding, and the night found Louis on his front stoop fumbling his keys with a fit boy called Harry plastered to his back.

Once he managed the complex set of steps that is required to get their ancient, always jammed piece of crap door open, Louis was faced with a dilemma. Back when Jay had been around more often and even after Mark ditched them, she'd kept the large master bedroom. That left two bedrooms for seven kids, two of whom were newborns prone to waking up shrieking every few hours.

Louis had been sleeping in the strange narrow hall closet ever since Daisy and Phoebe were born. It was likely meant to be a laundry room if the rusty, exposed piping is to be considered, but the washer has been down in the kitchen the whole time they'd lived there. There was just enough room for one bed and a dresser. Mark had installed a wooden rod across the tiny window where Louis hung his clothes, serving the multi-purpose of closet and curtain. But with two more additions and Jay refusing to give up her space, he gave Lottie the closet and moved the twins with Fizzy in the second biggest room, resigning himself to sleepless nights rooming with the babies.

And then shortly before Doris and Ernie turned one, Jay had gone on her bender to end all, and decided that she needed to go find Dan and bring him home. Which might have sounded like a good plan, except for the fact that she had no idea where he'd fucked off to in the first place. So Louis accepted the fact that their mother was off on a wild goose-chase that may very well last years, and shuffled Fizzy and Lottie into the master bedroom, reclaiming the closet for himself, so that each set of twins got their own room.

The problem was, the minute Jay returned after six months roaming America, she had thrown a fit over being displaced. She'd cried and yelled insisting that she refused to sleep on the couch of her own home. Louis had been too mad to deal with her, had spit some toxic words in her face, and gone straight to Zayn. Now it was gone one in the morning and he'd completely forgotten that he doesn't even have a bedroom in which to fuck the guy he'd pulled.

The sofa was all made up for him, quilt turned down and pillows fluffed because Jay likes to pretend to be a doting mother when she comes home. The sight of it only served to make Louis even madder, and he took petty satisfaction in shoving  Harry down, mussing the blankets and knocking the pillows to the floor.

He had enough sense to flip Harry over and press his face down, ordering him to be quiet with his teeth in his neck. Although it was clear that he gave it his best, the kid was largely unsuccessful. Louis couldn't help but feel smugly vindictive with every cry that he punched out of the boy. And the way that he gasped out ragged apologies, begging so prettily for Louis' forgiveness was too delightful to care who heard them.

He'd woken the next morning to screaming.

Louis' head hurt, his mouth was parched, his eyes stung because he had forgotten to take out his contact lenses. And there was Jay shrieking from the foot of the bed, wide-eyed and pink cheeked. Harry jerked awake in confusion, unfairly gorgeous despite the hangover, pale and pink-lipped, love-bites decorating his torso. The sheets dipped dangerously low, exposing each of the tattoos that Louis had discovered one-by-one the night before.

Jay wailed some nonsense about indecency and disrespect, called Louis ungrateful and raved about strange men in _her_  home close to _her_  babies. Louis wasn't about to take any of that lying down, so he met her with his own harsh words. How dare she judge him, how dare she demonize Harry who, for all Louis had only known him for a few hours, seemed a right shade above the sort of guys she used to bring around. She had the nerve to accuse him of endangering the kids after years of drinking in front of them, of leaving lit cigarettes low enough that Daisy still had a rosy scar on her thumb. There have been countless cases of her wandering off to the store and leaving the twins alone for hours, or letting her boyfriends stash their drugs around the house. Louis had spent his entire childhood subjected to her shady friends passing through his house like it was some sort of drug den.

Little faces eventually appeared at the banister, drawn by the shouting to peer sleepily from between the rails. Jay had moved to go to them, hands outstretched and beckoning, pleas falling from her lips. But by then they were already more Louis' children than hers, and sweet, trusting Phoebe was the only one to step forward before Lottie halted her with a hand on her shoulder. Louis stepped between them and her like a guard, and at some point Harry had gotten up too, sheet around his waist, to stand silent support at his shoulder. Jay cried bitterly when she left, but her tears had long since stopped affecting Louis.

(That was the first Harry morning. A shabby fry-up or thrown together leftovers.)

**  
  
  
  
  
**

Sometimes Harry leaves for reasons other than Louis' crippling self-doubt. Currently he's off on a five-day tour of the neighbouring county with Ed and the other lads that make up their rag-tag band.

They're not really a proper band, more like a group of guys who play music when they bother to put in the effort. They're actually really good, both Harry and Ed have these soulful voices that wind together beautifully, and Ed is a wizard with lyrics. Harry occasionally helps with the writing, and Josh, Sandy, and Danny are great too. The problem is that more often than not the lot of them can't be arsed to actually book gigs. Mostly they kick around the record store they all work at in a haze of weed and Dorito dust.

But randomly one of them will have a moment of inspiration and line up some dates at random pubs. Then they cram five bodies and all their gear into Sandy's decrepit van and leave town. Of course Danny hadn't bothered to give Harry any heads up about it, simply pulls up at the curb and leans on the horn while Harry scrambles frantically to throw clean underwear and shirts into a duffle. He takes his time kissing Louis goodbye though, thumbs stroking over his cheeks, tongue slow and thorough.

And now the girls are all at school, Niall had come by earlier to pick up the babies like he does once a week for a 'play-date' with Theo, which was usually code for giving Harry and Louis alone time. But. Now Harry is gone and the house is empty. There's plenty for Louis to do, mountains of laundry, a stack of resumes to hand out, he could dust, or vacuum, or clean the bathroom. So of course he decides to go to Zayn and Liam's instead.

He walks in to the sight of Liam balls deep in Veronica.

Veronica - Zayn's porn alter-ego - is bent over the couch in top form. She's trussed up in strappy black lingerie, the crotchless ones that allow Liam to fuck her without taking them off. She's working up a proper crescendo, wailing breathily while thrashing back on Liam's dick. Her wig is a mess, the dark tresses in a disarray, the lacy bodice slipping down to display her flat, tattooed chest and small pebbled nipples. She seems to already have come once, the sheer front of the panties tacky with globs of jizz, but her dick is still hard - or hard again - the ruddy tip straining sideways out of the waistband.

Liam's all dressed up in his work uniform, fluorescent orange vest accentuating his muscled arms and pecs. He's left his jeans on, fly undone and chaffing Veronica's arse. He's even got his hard-hat on, wobbling precariously with each thrust.

They both notice when Louis comes in, eyes flicking briefly to acknowledge his presence before returning to their business. Louis waves apologetically and skirts along the wall, careful not to step into view of the camcorder, or make enough noise for the recorder to pick up. Once he's safely behind the tripod, he makes for the kitchen and helps himself to a sandwich, giving them time to wrap up and make themselves presentable.

Zayn joins him fifteen minutes later, in which time Louis' finished his sandwich and has commandeered a jar of dill pickles to munch his way through. Zayn hops into the stool beside him, loose and relaxed in sweatpants and a worn Henley. It'll take a bit longer for Liam to join them, he has more shame than his boyfriend does and is no doubt dying of embarrassment upstairs.

"Hey." Zayn greets casually, sliding the jar towards himself to fish a pickle out with elegant fingers. He hasn't bothered to properly remove the makeup, so there's deep blue kohl smudged dramatically around his eyes, and traces of gloss still clinging to his lips. "Enjoy the show?"

"Absolutely." Louis agrees, "but not as much as your nine-thousand subscribers, I'm sure."

"Broke ten last week, actually." Zayn crunches around the pickle. "That was our ‘thanks for the ten-k!’ video you interrupted."

"Bro!" Louis crows, flinging an arm over his shoulders to pull the other man into a rough hug. "That's sick! Congrats! Is that why you were tied up?"

Zayn nods with a slight smirk. "Finally convinced Li to use the whip. Gotta give the fans what they want."

Louis cackles and offers a fist-bump, which Zayn smugly accepts. He gets up to grab two beers from the fridge. "Maybe I should start doing porn." Louis muses, staring into the pickle juice. They've finished all the pickles, just bits of garlic and dill floating around in the vinegar. "I reckon Harry'd be game."

"Dunno mate, I don't really think he'd be okay with sharing you like that."

A pleased heat ruptures in Louis' gut at the words. He scoffs to cover it up. "Well he doesn't own me. If I want to have sex on the internet then I'll have sex on the internet. Be easier than trying to find a bloody job in this town anyway."

Zayn shrugs. "I'm just saying, I don't imagine the sort of sex you're having is right for porn."

"Oi that's a bit offensive!"

"Calm down I just mean that when you two look at each other there's something that's too...intimate to work on film. You can't be too obvious or else you make the viewers feel excluded. When Li and I make a video we put on an act like, 's part of the reason I started with the costume. You've gotta separate yourself from your relationship and just _fuck_."

"And you don't think I could do that?" Louis challenges, "I'm a great actor."

"Mate." Zayn shakes his head slowly. "Not when it comes to your boy. And Harry? Never in a million years. He looks at you like you shit gold and jizz rainbows."

He's probably right. Louis takes out his crappy old flip phone and taps out a quick text to Harry, not expecting a response since he's still on the road with his boys.  **[new career: pornstar. thoughts ??]** and then takes a healthy chug of beer before laying his head on his folded arms. "Urrgh." He groans, "I hate job hunting. Fuck the economy."

"You'll find something." Zayn pats his shoulder. "Relax and enjoy unemployment for a while. I know you don't like to let Harry spend money on you, but you know he can help out with stuff while you look."

"Fuck you Malik." Louis grumbles. "I'm not going to do that no matter how many times you try to convince me."

"Well I'm going to keep saying it 'coz it's fucking stupid that you won't let him. The kid is dying to help you Lou, just give in and let him pay some of the bills, at least until you find something."

If it were anyone else but Zayn Louis might punch him. But it's Zayn, and he's staring at him with those smokey eyes full of such genuine love and understanding. "I can't." Louis whispers hoarsely, feeling embarrassingly close to tears. "You know why I can't Z. I'm already so...it's already too much. He's so wonderful and the kids love him so much and I just can't. I don't know what we're going to do when it's over. It's so much."

"And I hate that you assume it's going to end." Zayn says, voice as warm and earnest as his eyes. "Because your life would be so much easier if you would just believe that he's in this for keeps. He's not going to leave unless you force him to."

"Well I'm afraid the overwhelming evidence points heavily to the contrary." Louis laughs bitterly. "Everyone leaves eventually Z, even if they promise not to."

"That's not true babe." Zayn whispers, "you've just had shitty luck so far. But I can tell-"

"Don't." Louis snaps. "Please. I don't want to talk about this right now, okay?"

Zayn gazes at him unhappily, but doesn't pursue. And thankfully, the heavy silence is interrupted by Liam slinking into the room, short hair dark from the shower. He smiles meekly and presses a chaste kiss to Zayn's cheek. "Wotcher Lou?"

"Payno." Louis smirks, ready to really get his worth, "Jolly good showing back there. Lovely form, ten out of ten from me."

Liam's face burns crimson, but he keeps his chin high and responds with a snippy. "Thanks mate, means a lot." Louis' spent years verbally poking a prodding the guy to reach the point that he feels comfortable bantering, so he feels sort of like a proud papa whenever Liam stands up to his sass.

They have a couple more beers each, and indulge in a shared joint. Louis only has a couple puffs, since the girls will be home in a few hours so he has to sober up by then. Liam pushes a water-bottle into his hands on his way out, and he sips it slowly on the walk to the bus stop.  

It's been objectively nice, these past couple weeks, to be able to do things like walk his siblings home, help them with homework, and be there in the evenings. He'd never really realized how much of his life before had been consumed by working, and catching up on sleep because of work. If he ignores the constant buzz of anxiety that grips him more tightly each day he doesn't find a job, it's actually really nice.

But what Louis had said to Zayn holds true. He can't let himself become complacent. Harry has been vocal from the start about how his money is on the table for whatever Louis needs. Merely a week after their first night together, when they were still just strangers who'd found crazy chemistry in a club and fucked every night since, Louis had come home to a handyman installing a new washing machine.

He'd flipped out. Sure they'd desperately needed a new one for ages, the old machine breaking down more often that it worked, and leaking great puddles of water over the kitchen floor. But there was no way that they could afford even a repair, let alone a replacement. Harry had been honestly confused as to why Louis had freaked out at him. He'd insisted that it was a gift, something he wanted to do and expected no payment for.

That time, it had been too late to refuse, as the new machine had already been in place and hooked up, their old washer tossed carelessly in the back of a truck outside. But Louis had made it very clear that if Harry wanted to continue this thing that they had going, he wasn't allowed to pull that kind of shit again.

It hadn't helped that Louis spent the first month convinced that Harry was some kind of criminal. Not that he'd thought that he was anything truly bad, his gentle nature and bright-eyed optimism dissuaded any such notion, but Louis had made up wild fantasies in which Harry was tangled up in some lucrative business. Forgery, or fraud, or his personal favourite, car thievery. It wasn't Louis fault, this tall, dark, and handsome stranger had come into his life by way of saving him from sexual assault, and the way he'd punched the guy had been an exciting first impression. With the deep voice, the tattoos, and the abundant cash flow despite the lack of a proper job, nobody can blame Louis for being suspicious.

As it turns out, aside from occasionally peddling weed for his mates, the worst offense Harry was committing was lying to his very wealthy parents who were under the impression that they were paying for him to attend law school. "Its not like I don't love them." He'd explained one lazy Sunday night that Louis didn't have to work. "And I know they love me. I hate lying, but I'm just not cut out to be a lawyer. My step-dad wants me to take over his firm, but all I want to do is play my music. I tried one semester and I just couldn't do it, but I was too much of a coward to tell them. So I just didn't go back for second term. Now it's been so long I don't know how to tell them."

As their relationship had deepened, Harry grew bolder in trying to sneak things. He'd slip Daisy and Phoebe money to buy treats after school, take Lottie and Fizzy shopping and buy them all kinds of things they didn't really need. And he's always offering, whenever something comes up he begs Louis to let him pay. From gas bills to soccer camp for Daisy. Eventually Louis had given in and allowed him to pay for their groceries, since Harry does almost all of the cooking now, and insists he can't work with cheap, sub-par ingredients.

Louis heaves a sigh and plasters on a grin when the school bus pulls up the the corner and the twins come rushing out to tackle him. He takes Phoebe's searching fingers - Daisy declaring loudly that she's "too old" to hold hands - and nods along as they chatter about their days. They run ahead once they reach the house, stomping up the stairs. Louis' phone pings as he unlocks the door, and he pulls it out to see a text from Harry.

**[ dont want anyone else to see you like that. You're mine <3 ]**

**  
  
  
  
  
**

Her name is Georgia. She's sixteen but looks about twelve. She has dark brown hair that looks like it's been cut with a dull knife, and watery blue eyes behind cracked glasses. The clothes she's wearing are threadbare and not warm enough for the frigid December night. Apparently she's Louis' sister.

Harry, bless him, had been the one to gently move Louis aside from where he stood frozen in the door, so that the girl could come in out of the cold. He is currently sat beside her on the couch feeding her Christmas cookies. All Louis can do is watch from the deflated old armchair, arms wrapped around his middle.

She has a scab on her jaw. Long, from her left earlobe cutting into her lower lip, almost a centimeter at the widest part. Louis doesn't even know how one would get a cut like that.

They set up a nest from all their spare linen on the floor of the twins' room. Louis might've put her in with Lottie and Fizzy, since they're close in age, but he's not sure if they would have been okay with that just yet. Daisy and Phoebe take to her without hesitation, lending her pajamas that fit just fine since she's so undersized. They each give her one of their stuffed animals to borrow.

Harry is the one to get everyone settled, finds a spare toothbrush and gets glasses of water and such. Louis escapes to the front stoop and lights a smoke between shaking fingers.

The door opens behind him ten minutes later, a moment of warmth and light before it clicks shut again. A blanket falls over his shoulders, followed by a body hunkering down beside him. Harry rubs Louis' shoulders vigorously, and tucks the fleece more securely around his frame. "It's cold out love." He murmurs, breath billowing around them in silver clouds. "Finish up and come inside?"

Louis stares at the stub of his cigarette. He'd zoned out at some point and forgotten to smoke, letting the thing burn away uselessly. Waste. "I don't know what to do." He rasps, "She's so skinny. I can't afford another mouth to feed."

Harry stays silent, but he reaches out to pry Louis fingers apart and slide his own in between. Louis' grateful that he doesn't say anything, because he knows what he's thinking, and he doesn't want to have the same old argument again, not now. "Do you think she's been abused?" He continues, voice growing slightly hysterical. "It's just...that cut. And she's so skittish. And when she talked about her mum...wasn't that weird? Like, her mum just _died_  two days ago but she doesn't seem really upset about it, like it's just a fact. Maybe she's traumatized. I don't know how to deal with that Harry."

Stroking fingers brush gentle touches across Louis' knuckles while he continues, "And she thought that Troy would be here, waiting for her. Probably expected a happy reunion and a new home. But I've never even met the fucker! Is this like, his thing? Knocking up poor women and leaving them? How many more little urchins are going to show up at my door? How many brothers and sisters do I have that I don't know about? I can't take care of them all! I can barely take care of the ones I've already got. Oh god."

He's on his way to hyperventilation. Harry takes action, taking the cigarette butt and crushing it with his heel, then pulls Louis sideways so his torso is twisted awkwardly, his face pressed against Harry's chest. He closes his eyes and inhales with his heartbeat in his ear. He can feel the vibrations when Harry speaks.

"I told my parents." Harry says, and it takes Louis a moment to catch up with the abrupt change of topic, and another for the information to sink in. He tries to sit up, but Harry keeps him pinned. "I stopped by for dinner on our way back from tour. And I just...I couldn't keep it in any longer. I told them everything."

Since he's not letting Louis look at him, he does his best to translate his support by wrapping his arms around his waist and squeezing as tight as he can. "Hazza that's...that's so brave of you."

"I should have done it a long time ago." Harry sighs, playing distractedly with Louis hair. "That's the part they were the most mad about, how long I've been hiding it. Mum cried for so long, but not about the money or me not becoming a lawyer. She cried because she thinks I didn't trust her enough to tell her. She's...fuck, she blames _herself_. I could handle her anger, or yelling, or even kicking me out. But she was so distraught at the thought that I was afraid of her. It was horrible."

"Harry." Louis croaks, "Babe I'm sorry. Why didn't you tell me when you got home? I wish I could have helped you."

Louis can't be sure, squashed against his pecs, but he thinks Harry shakes his head. "No it's okay, you actually helped a lot more than you know. I mean, you're the one who gave me the courage to finally do it. See, I realized recently, the reason I put it off for so long was because I felt like I couldn't tell them that law school wasn't the right path for me until I knew what _was_. You know? Like I couldn't tell them that instead of going to school I was bumming around with my mates, smoking pot and singing for free pints in dive bars. But then I met you and I found the life I wanted to have. I found something that I felt proud to tell them about."

Louis tries to pull away again, and this time Harry lets him. He stumbles down the steps, his feet crunching into the snow caking the gravel path. Harry's eyes follow him as he lights another smoke, making sure to inhale this one greedily. Harry's still talking. "I know you don't believe me when I say it but I love you Lou, and I love those kids. And I'm in this for as long as you'll have me, for good I hope."

"Harry." Louis says helplessly, chipping at a chunk of ice with his toe. He's only wearing his high-tops, hadn't bothered to do the laces, and freezing water slowly soaks his feet. "It's not that I don't believe you, I know you feel like this now but. You can't promise me forever."

"I can though, and I will. And someday you'll have to believe me, if it's not til we're old and grey and wrinkly and I'm still there that's fine but I'm going to keep trying."

"I can't...Harry I can't let myself believe that. You don't know what you're signing up for-"

"I do though!" He's standing too now, big, clumsy hands waving around in the air. "It's been over a year. I've seen what you are Lou, I've been here through so much. I've met your mum and I've dealt with her boyfriends, I helped you convince Lottie to stay in school, I was right beside you when Fizzy ran away. I was the one to talk to the police when Daisy broke that kid's nose, I held your hand when Phoebe was in hospital with the infection. I was bloody there when Dori and Ernie took their first steps Lou, I know your family!"

"You were, and I know you do. But do you _really_ get it? By the time Dor and Ernie are old enough to leave home I'll be-"

"Forty Louis I know." Harry draws closer, reaching out to hold Louis' elbows. "And I'll be thirty-eight. What's your point?"

Louis sobs dryly, "I never even graduated high-school Harry. I can't bloody get a job _now_ , when I'm still young and healthy. What'll I be doing at forty? What future do I have?"

"That's the thing Lou, you won't have a future unless you make one for yourself! And that's what I want to do. With you."

Louis is shaking his head, biting his lip to keep from crying for real. Harry's hands slide up his arms the cup his jaw, stilling him. "I'm going back to school." He breathes into Louis' face. He smells like chocolate and peppermint from the cookies. "I promised mum that I would. For music production this time, at the college. It looks amazing, perfect even. It's a three year program but I should be able to finish in two if I take some summer classes. And tuition will be less than half of what it was before, but Robin said that he'll still send the same allowance every month."

"Harry-"

"I've given notice to my landlord that I won't be renewing my lease. At the end of the month I won't have a flat of my own. If you'll take me I want to move in for good, and start paying my share, fifty percent of rent and utilities."

" _Harry_."

"And the extra money is for _us_ Louis, I don't care if you don't want it. I showed mum pictures of you and the kids and she loves you already. She basically ordered me to take care of you, so the money is yours as much as it's mine. And if you won't take it I'll give it to Lottie, she's old enough to have her own bank account and she won't say no. Oh and mum wants to meet you, as soon as you feel ready they want to come here and meet everyone."

The only thing Louis can do to halt Harry's rambling is to lean up and bite his lips. Harry lets the nip silence him, hands drifting to Louis' shoulders. "Sorry." He sighs shakily. "I just hate how hard you are on yourself. You're so good."

"Not as good as you Harry Styles." Louis rubs the taller man's chest comfortingly. "Look at you, ready and rearing to give me everything you are."

Harry nods, his head bumping lightly against Louis'. "I really am." He murmurs. "I wish you'd take me."

"But what'll I be when I use you up? When I wring you out and you're gone, how will I survive? You'd be so easy to get addicted to."

Harry laughs like a hiccup, fingers scrabbling at Louis' shoulders like he's slipping away and struggling for purchase. "You've got it mixed around. You're the one that's addictive. Like the sun. Nourishing, life-saving." He fixes Louis with the most earnest gaze. "That little girl upstairs doesn't even realize how lucky she is. Because no matter how pressed you are for money, no matter how stressed you are about finding a job, I know that you'll make sure she's okay. I know that you'll take care of her. She's found herself the best family she could ever hope for."

Louis shakes his head, eyes clenching shut. His mind whirls in fearful circles, between the mould spores that he can't seem to stop from growing in every crevice of the house, the rusty nails on the front step that Phoebe had scraped her knee on last summer and had to be rushed to the hospital because Jay had never taken them to get their shots. He thinks of how when Lottie was a baby and had gotten really sick and needed medicine that they couldn't afford because Jay had spent her paycheck on scratch tickets, how he had gone to the pharmacy and slipped the box into his pocket. He thinks of Phoebe and Daisy and how Lottie had instructed them to wade into the fountains in the park to fish out any coins they could find when they were just three years old. He thinks of the last time Jay had been home and how her boyfriend of the week had left a baggy of coke on the coffee table, low enough that Louis barely had time to snatch it out of Doris' curious little fingers. He thinks of how shrilly Ernest had cried when Jay left mere weeks after their birth, how Louis hadn't been able to afford enough formula to keep the hunger pangs from ravaging his undersized body.

"We're fucked up Harry." He sobs, "My fucking mother is a bipolar alcoholic who keeps getting knocked up by scumbags. I'm an unemployed high-school dropout, Lottie does her best but I know that she resents having to live this way, I know she'd give anything to leave and never come back. Fizzy gets bullied at school and cries herself to sleep more often than such a sweet girl ever should. Phoebe is so anxious that she's started wetting the bed again, and Daisy...I don't even know what to do with her! She's out of control! I caught her mutilating all of their dolls the other day, with a bloody switchblade! I don't even know where she got a switchblade. Dori and Ernie are the only ones that aren't a mess yet and that's because they're one. How are we a good family?"

"Because you're so so much more than the hardships you've faced." Harry speaks into Louis' temple. "You've given them your love and devotion, made sure each of those kids knows that they have someone who cares about them. Sure they've been through things that they shouldn't have had to, but you've given them a safe place and open arms to hug all that other shit away. You've done your very best Louis Tomlinson, and it's enough. I know you'll never agree but you've done so right."

Louis shudders, tears seeping silently from between his lashes. "I'm just so scared all the time." He confesses. "Every second of every day I'm scared."

"I know love. But see, that's what I want to be for. I want to be here so that you can be a little bit less scared. Because sharing that fear will divide the burden, if you'd just let me take half."

The thing is, Louis wants to. He wants to lower his defenses, the graffitied, crumbling, barbed-wire topped walls that he's built between him and this amazing man. He wants to let Harry flood in and engulf him with warmth and security, to let himself be carried away from this cold black-hole of terror that is his life. But letting go is the scariest thing that he can think of. So scary that he's not sure if what's on the other side is worth it.

"You're asking me to jump. And I'm not sure if you'll be able to catch me. I'm really very heavy with all that baggage."

Harry chokes out a laugh, a little manic. "But you've got it wrong. I'm not here to catch you, I'm here to jump with you. We'll hold hands and everything, it'll be fun."

He tickles Louis' palm as if to illustrate. Louis is too exhausted to fight the urge to collapse against his chest.

"We'll need to go shopping." He grumbles. "The kid's got nothing but the rags she arrived in. And we should enroll her in classes right away. The fee is going to be like, a hundred pounds at least."

Harry strokes a comforting hand around the back of his skull but stays silent. Louis sighs heavily, but is surprised to feel a smile doing battle with the muscles of his cheeks. "So then pal? You free tomorrow?"

Harry's fingers slip on the hollows at the join of his spine. "Yeah?" He says, voice high and unsure. Louis peeks up at him and crosses his eyes. The silly face seems to erase Harry's doubt, and he beams. "My treat?"

"You buy the books and supplies and I'll get the clothes and enrollment." Louis decrees, letting himself smile past the pang of anxiety that vibrates against his throat. "Fifty-fifty right?" before pushing away and flouncing up the stairs to pull the door open. "Now ged in here I can't feel my toes."

**  
  
  
  
  
**

"Is that him is he coming?"

"I think I hear footsteps!"

"Daisy shove your butt you're sitting on my hair!"

"Shh everyone sit still."

" _Ouch_ Lottie!"

"Girls pipe down."

"But Lottie pinched me!"

"Well your smelly feet were in my face."

"It's him he's home!"

"Be quiet!"

"Sssshhhh!"

"Everyone shut up and get down!"

Keys jangle, the handle twists, and Louis steps through the door. The room is pitch black, blinds shut tight even though it's only six thirty. He blinks in confusion into the still house, around dinner time it's usually a hub of activity. He shrugs his backpack off his shoulder and lets it slide onto the bench that stores the kids' winter-wear, toeing off his boots. He gropes blindly to find the light switch and-

"SURPRISE!!"

Bodies shoot into view from every direction. Daisy and Lottie pop out from under the coffee table, Phoebe from the behind the curtains, Fizzy jumps at him from the closet. Georgia is giggling uncontrollably as she stumbles, feet tangled in the blankets she'd been hiding under. Zayn slides out from behind the bookshelf with Liam, Ernest balanced on his hip. Niall hollers gleefully from the corner behind the TV. Harry is a little slower, helping a squealing Doris toddle out from behind the couch. In the entrance to the kitchen a whole crowd has gathered to cheer, Perrie and the other girls from the pub, Ed and the lads, Harry's new friends from school as well as Eleanor, Sophia and Danielle from the community centre.

"What's all this?" Louis laughs in delight, Daisy and Phoebe wrapped around his waist. He tickles them and they twist away screeching. He stoops to scoop Doris up and gives her a toss.

"It's a party!" Daisy yells, spinning around in giddy circles, her neon purple skirt whipping around her. "A party party party!!"

"Oh is it?" Louis exclaims, looking around exaggeratedly. There are balloons scattered a little randomly around the room, and the younger kids have old birthday hats on. A banner hangs on the wall beside the stairs, lopsided hand-painted letters spelling out [CONGRATULATIONS BOO!]. Somebody had let the girls go hog-wild with glitter and construction paper cut-outs. A green cat and an orange t-rex dominate one side while the other is crowded with vibrant hearts and flowers. There's even a patch of nonsensical smears that looks like the work of babies with finger paints. "Who's it for?"

"You!" The twins scream in unison.

"For me?" Louis gasps, flicking his eyes to glare at Harry. The younger man shrugs, lips twitching. "Well then lets party!"

Everyone crowds into the kitchen where a veritable feast has been set up. Every bit of counter is covered in dishes, the breakfast table overflowing with plates and cutlery and a giant punch bowl. It looks like it's potluck style, Louis recognizes Bobby's famous boxty potatoes next to Liam's barbecue chicken. There's a veggie platter big enough to feed an army with about a liter of dip, countless bags of chips, several salads, a whole pineapple, and much more.

As the guests pile food onto their plates and filter into the backyard, Louis hangs back with Harry. "Seems like a whole lotta fuss." He comments mildly, plucking up a piece of garlic bread. It's delightfully greasy and salty, butter trickling down his wrist.

"Hey." Harry dimples, snagging Louis' belt loops to tug him close. He murmurs his next words against Louis' cheek, "Hi. How was your day?"

"My day was fine. Just your average day, you know? Ran some errands, went to class, came home. How about you, what did you get up to today?"

"Oh not much." Harry ducks his head, hiding a bit behind his hair. He's left it loose today, for the first time in a while. He's hit an awkward stage in the growing process and has been tying it back more often than not. Louis misses it down and takes advantage now, reaching out to run his fingers through a soft curl. "I hung out with some infants. Did a spot of baking."

"Baking?" Louis lets his eyebrow drift upward, "I don't see any baked goods."

"Not yet you don't." Harry sings, wiggling his eyebrows around ridiculously, and Louis can't help but lean in to kiss his smirking mouth. It's greasy and garlicky from the butter, and it quickly dissolves into Harry licking across Louis's face like a dog.

"Alright alright down boy!" Louis shoves a Harry's cheeks. The taller man beams down at him and darts in for one last proper smooch before releasing him. "But seriously babe, thank you. You didn't need to do all this."

"I know I didn't need to. Bu-"

"Yeah yeah you wanted to. I know you sap."

He pouts dramatically, lips even pinker and plumper than usual. Louis wants to snog him to death but yeah, house full of friends and family. "Hey I didn't complain when you threw me the party last month. And that was even less of a big deal, I didn't even graduate and you threw a rager."

"The end of your first year is still a big deal." Louis insists. "University is hard! All I did was take one teeny course at the community centre."

His mouth drops in indignation, as if Louis has insulted Harry's intelligence instead of his own. Louis feels a fizzle of happiness bubble in his stomach, ready to bicker with this wonderful man about everything in the world. But before they can get into the playful argument they've been having all year, Zayn pops his head through the door. "Hey lovebirds, your barbecue starter is fucked up. Either of you know how to light it? And by either of you I mean Harry because I know for a fact Louis has never touched that thing."

Louis yelps like he's been wounded. "What are you insinuating Malik? I could absolutely barbecue if I so chose. It's like, fire and manly things so I'd be great at it. Harold's area of expertise is the girly stuff like garnishing and flambé and shit."

Zayn rolls his eyes. "Flambéing involves fire too you dipshit. Just get out here and deal with it, everyone's hungry." And with that slinks back off. Louis sticks his tongue out after him.

"I'm not a dipshit." He huffs, and when Harry doesn't reply he elbows him in the ribs. "You're supposed to agree."

"Well. I mean the word flambé literally translates to-" Harry ducks away laughing when Louis goes in for another blow.

While Harry heads to sort out the grill, Louis wanders over the the group that's gathered at the railing to watch the kids play in the yard. They'd filled up the old above-ground pool just this week, and the girls are making quick work of breaking it in. Lottie and Fizzy have Dorie, Ernest, and Theo snug in their floaties, letting them bob around in delight. The twins and Georgie have roped Niall into a splash fight.

"Well look who it is Luxy." A shoulder bumps into his as Lou Teasdale nudges in close, her little girl in her arms. "Are you excited to hang out with uncle Louis?"

Lux giggles and Louis reaches out to tug her pigtail. "Eh little miss?" He drawls, "We're going to have loads of fun here at Baby Bear Day-care. You won't ever want to leave."

"Well you'll have to give her back eventually, as I might start to miss her at some point." Lou says. "So is that the official name then?"

Louis rolls his eyes skywards and sighs. "Yes that's what's on the permit. As of today I legally run Baby Bear Day-care. I don't know why I let that boy run my life for me."

They both glance over at Harry where he's crouched with Liam by the grill. They have matching looks of determination etched into their faces. "Because he's good." Louis answers for himself. "Because he's so good and he loves me."

Lou looks a little moist eyed, and she playfully feigns a swoon. "You're sickeningly cute. And soon you'll have an army of toddlers all over you and you'll be even cuter. God I can't believe you've convinced the government to let you do this."

"I know, me neither." Louis laughs. "But I mean, it's perfect you know? I already had a dozen little ones coming and going before, now I've just got papers for it. Plus, I feel like now the money Harry's parents are giving us is at least benefitting the neighbourhood, and I don't feel quite as bad accepting it."

"Well it's definitely benefitting me." Lou replies, "Day-care is expensive. Now I've got it for free."

"Nuh-uh Louise it's not free it's an exchange of services. Haircuts for eight are also expensive. It's a symbiotic relationship."

"Symbiotic? The hell Tommo you take one community course and suddenly you're pulling out fancy vocabulary on us poor uneducated folk?"

She's only teasing but Louis flushes lightly. "Harry's taking his science credit right now." He explains meekly. "I'm helping quiz him for a test is all. I wouldn't have known it otherwise."

Lou shakes her head and bumps their hips together. "I'm just having you on love, it's great to see people from around here going on and getting educated. It doesn't happen nearly enough."

"I'm not getting educated." Louis snorts, "I'm learning vicariously through Harry.

"Education doesn't always have to come with a degree babe." Lou clucks fondly, shifting her stance. Lux is getting squirmy watching her friends have fun without her so Lou sets her down, allowing her to dash off down the steps. Louis watches her flail her water-wing clad arms until Niall picks her up and throws her into the pool with an earsplitting shriek. "Speaking of which." Lou continues, "that sister of yours came 'round the salon the other day, did you know?"

Louis shakes his head, raising his eyebrows.

"I thought not. She was acting a bit shady, all twitchy and such. She was asking about being a beautician and how I learned everything. I never had formal training, you know, just learned from watching my older sisters and mum. Started out doing it just for my friends as a bit of cash on the side, charged them basically nothing. I got lucky when Sal agreed to hire me, and I had to work my arse off to get my own chair. I got the sense that your Lottie was testing the waters. Asked if Sal needed somebody to help out around the shop."

"Really." Louis leans forward with his hands on the rail, breathes out between his elbows. "What did you tell her."

"I told her the truth. That she's only barely seventeen, far too young to be concerned with jumping into a career. That she's an intelligent young lady who could get a dozen scholarships if she tried. That even though I've made it this far without a degree doesn't mean I don't wish that I'd tried to get one. Going to beauty school would open up so many more options, and if she paired that with a business degree she could even open her own place someday." Lou gazes at her daughter who, although happy and healthy, is wearing a threadbare swimsuit that's at least a size too small. Her eyes glow softly with peaceful resignation.

"I'll talk to her." Louis murmurs, watching Lottie grab Lux around her chubby tummy and swing her around.

"Be gentle." Lou says, "That girl is stubborn but she worships you. All she really wants is for you to be proud of her, even if she hides it with a snarky attitude."

"Yeah I know. I will be."

Lou smiles gently, and they settle into a comfortable silence watching their kids play. Louis only tears his eyes away when there's a ruckus behind them a minute later. Happy voices rise in volume, excited chatter speeds up. Louis sees Harry in the middle of the commotion. He's got an ear to ear grin splitting his face in half, arms thrown  wide around-

"Anne!" Louis exclaims, jogging over the the small crowd and shoving toward the new arrivals. "Gemma! Robin! What are you doing here?"

Anne releases Harry immediately, opening her arms to pull Louis in. He returns the embrace, and the kiss she smooches on his cheek. She smells just as wonderful as always, subtle floral perfume not quite masking the warm scents of clean soap and home cooking. She smells like everything he imagines a mum should. "Darlings!" She pulls back far enough to see his face but keeps her hands on his shoulders, "it's been far too long, I've missed you."

"You saw each other just last week for brunch." Harry grumps from behind her, crinkled eyes contradicting his indignant tone. "And you were texting yesterday. I know for a fact because Louis was ignoring me for ages."

"Don't whinge Harry it's unattractive." Anne chides. But she frees up one arms to bring him into their huddle. Harry grins and stoops to their height, pressing his face in between both of theirs. Gemma squawks something about being excluded and jumps onto Louis' back, dragging a laughing Robin in with her. Louis can barely breath in the middle of the Styles-Twist sandwich and it feels brilliant.

Louis can hear when his sisters catch sight of the new arrivals. The girls all worship Gemma, and Robin is Georgia's favourite person in the world. A dozen little feet thunder across the deck, shaking the boards like an earthquake. Louis breathes in a lungful of air when they part to greet the kids, stepping out of the way of their flailing, soaking wet bodies. "Don't drip on them little monsters!" He calls futilely. Gemma makes a face at him while dodging the twin's attempts at hugs.

Anne's manicured fingers pinch at Louis's elbow, tugging him gently away. "Come on dear help fetch the some things from the car." She murmurs.

Louis tears his eyes away from his and Harry's families' joyful reunion and links his arm fully with hers."Of course m'lady, lead the way!"

They trot around to the front where Robin's sleek black Mercedes is utterly out of place against the crumbled brick and cracked asphalt of the front drive. Together they heave several bags and a giant bowl of mint watermelon salad out of the boot. They make light gossip as they truck it to the kitchen, about the drive and the girls and her and Robin's recent trip to Venice.

Anne slips a slim bottle of champagne into Louis hands, the dark label curling with gold scripted French that Louis can't read. The simple elegance of the design gives the impression of sophistication and money, lots and lots of money. "For dessert." She winks, "after we hooligans clear out."

He tries to push it back into her hands. "You shouldn't have, really, I can't accept this."

"Of course you can." Anne says firmly, no room for argument. "What good is a mum for if she can't spoil her sons." And then her eyes widen, and one hand goes to her mouth. "Oh shoot I am so sorry. That was thoughtless."

Louis laughs weakly and shakes his head. "Don't worry, it's fine. I mean, you are right after all."

"Still sweetheart I shouldn't have said it. Please forgive me."

"Of course mum." Louis bumps his hip against hers. "Thanks for the gift."

Anne dimples the same as her son when she smiles big. She chucks her knuckles under Louis chin lovingly. "You're welcome darling. You deserve it."

Louis peels the Saran Wrap off the salad and looks around for a clear space on the counter. Shoving a stack of paper plates aside he plunks the bowl beside Leigh-Anne's spinach dip. "Speaking of." Anne says, pulling a jug of lemonade out of a bag and putting it in the fridge. "How did it go? Seeing your mother?"

Louis breathes out through his nose and turns around, bracing his palms on the counter. Only a week has past since his trip to London to find Jay and he still feels a bit emotionally unbalanced every time he thinks about it. Harry hasn't been pressing him to talk about it, being his usual supportive self and swaddling him in kisses and cuddles. But talking to Anne, he thinks, actually might be okay. Might even make him feel steadier.

"Well she wasn't exactly thrilled to be asked to give up the house." He starts, "But she was surprisingly cooperative. I didn't even really need to persuade her much beyond explaining the situation. She cried a little. Which made me cry of course. But she wasn't really mad?"

"Oh Louis that's wonderful." Anne murmurs, palm warm on his shoulder. "So she signed the papers?"

"Yup, this shite-hole house legally belongs to me." He smiles apologetically at her stern look. "Sorry. But yeah. I was honestly expecting a proper fight. I had to psych myself up on the drive there, prepare for screaming and swearing. It was...it almost felt too easy you know? Anticlimactic like."

"Oh love. She may not always be what you need her to be but she's still your mother. I'm sure there's some part of her that knows that this is what needs to happen. I’d bet any money she's very proud of you."

"Maybe." Louis mumbles, staring down at his bare toes. He would never have thought so before, but something about the way Jay had hugged him when they were done. Her eyes had been red and shot from crying, but she'd smiled at him shakily as they said their goodbyes. They'd hugged there, standing beside the tucked away park bench where they'd shared a soggy Tesco sandwich. They'd gotten boiled water from the deli ladies, and made tea from the bags that Jay always carries around in her purse. She'd felt small in his arms, skinnier than he remembers her being. But she'd gripped him tightly, one arm around his neck and the other clutching his back.

She'd told him that she loved him. Leaned up to press a kiss to his brow, and timidly suggested that she might call the girls within the next week. Louis had nodded, throat strangely tight. And they'd parted, just like that. Jay had wandered back down the path that would take her out of the park and back to the friends' flat where she's living. She hadn't looked back.

Maybe she was proud. It's hard to say.

"Well at least it's official." Anne says after a minute of humid silence. She gives Louis' arm one last rub and straightens her blouse, the bangles on her wrists tinkling lightly. "Louis Tomlinson, soon you are going to be running the finest after school childcare establishment in town."

Mentally shaking off the numb cloud of Jay induced angst, Louis returns her smile. From the yard, Liam is hollering that the first round of burgers are ready, and the excited babble of children and swells as the herd rushes to get to the food. Louis can see Harry through the window, wielding a stack of paper plates and shepherding kids around like he was born to do it. Louis wants to go out and join him.

So he does.


End file.
